Has it been almost a year since I posted? Holy Smokes!! I found Seasons Part 2, but if you need to get caught up a bit, here’s the link for Seasons Part 1: http://wp.me/prf6k-eQ Let me know if the link is messed up or I won’t know to fix it. I promise it won’t be another year before Part 3 gets posted! Lol!
May 20, 2011
Have you ever had a recurring dream? It doesn’t even have to be a nightmare—just some mental illusion that visits you night after night starting and/or ending the same way with perhaps a few details here and there added or omitted. Has it woke you up or just caused you to question the meaning behind the embedded symbology? I have had three recurring dreams in my life. I remember them vividly. The first came in my childhood. It would haunt me each night with images of crossing a bridge in a car only to find that the bridge was out. The car would drive off the end and begin to plummet. I woke up shaking for nights and months on end. I remember trying to turn my pillow over, searching for the cool side. I would sleep on the other side of my full sized mattress. I would even sleep at the foot of the bed figuring if I changed my position and thought of something happy, the dream would vanish for good. At the time, I knew nothing of dream analysis or what any of it meant, but I do know to this day it has changed me in a couple ways—I now carry one of those thing-a-ma-bobs in every car that would readily cut through a seatbelt while the other end applies enough pressure to the glass and allowing it to shatter should the vehicle become submerged and render the power windows useless. The thought of not making it to the surface and ultimately drowning is a very real fear of mine.
I know now that if you dream of a bridge it usually symbolizes a solution to a problem If it is impassable you need to choose a different path because the one you’re on isn’t giving you positive results. So, I researched falling dreams. They are among the most common and tend to symbolize a loss of control (there it is again—CONTROL—something I have issues with). According to one source, if your dream resembles a fall from some dramatic place, you are “anxious about who you are , where you’re going in life, and what it all means”. As a young girl, I could see that being a plausible explanation. This source also goes on to state that falling into water means fearing your passions may get the best of you. What are passions anyway—just really strong emotions, so when I looked up just water—that;s exactly what it meant, but in various forms. To dream of a river (which is what my dream back then showed), it was a symbol of emotional communication. And since rivers flow in one direction or another and sometimes change course—it all seemed somewhat understandable. In a nutshell, I think I may have been increasingly anxious about crossing into puberty—growing up. The key to the dream was that I never died. I always woke up. Maybe my way of telling myself that this too shall pass, that if you able to keep your wits about you—you’ll manage somehow to make it out of this.
The second recurrence was in my early 20’s when I was pregnant with my first daughter. I dreamt each night that I was going grocery shopping with my newborn. In the dream, I would place one of those cloth protectors in the shopping cart before letting my baby sit in the front position. Each time I unwrapped my swaddled child, I would discover I had given birth to a frog. I would wake up horrified. I knew then that it was just anxiety about me having a baby, a momentous change in a woman’s life and the worry about all those things mothers worry about—would I be a good mom, would I be able to take care of the child, give it everything it needed, and would I love it even if it wasn’t perfect. Something that has been tested over and over again in the past three years.
This third dream, though, was unlike the others. It was rich in color and details. I could smell the blossoms in the dream! I could feel the grass beneath my bare feet. I could hear myself giggling and squealing with delight as well as hear the “voice” which spoke to my childhood image. I dreamt this dream every single night for 6 months following my mastectomy. At first, I chalked it up to coincidence. Then, over time, I told myself that since I was falling asleep wondering if I would dream about it again, I surely had it in my subconscious, and therefore, DID dream about it again. Each night, though, a new clue would appear in the dream (or, maybe they were always there and I was picking and choosing which detail to focus on that particular night). I spent a great deal of time researching all the elements of this dream and trying to connect the dots.
It’s a beautiful spring day. There was a slight breeze even though there wasn’t a cloud in the bright blue sky. The sun is shining bright and warm on a little girl with the face of my youth.
I have long, ash colored hair with traces of bleached white highlights framing my face left over from the very light blonde wisps of my toddler days. It was tousled with a crown of fly-aways—the kind you get from waking up and immediately running outside to play instead of combing your hair first.
I was wearing a pale, lemon-yellow sundress. It had a gingham checked pattern that was rouched in through the bodice. My skin was already sunkissed a bit and a faint tan line over the shoulders could be detected if you looked hard enough.
I was running barefooted through the grass in between two endless rows of orchard trees. If you looked up you would see the petals from the spring blossoms giving way to gravity and drifting through the air as they all began to fall.
My head was turned back over my right shoulder and I was laughing with delight. Why was I running, though? Was I running to something? Away from something? I couldn’t quite tell, but I could see that I wasn’t scared.
Something or someone is behind me and was taunting me, “I’m gonna getcha”, it said over and over. It was a male voice…a deep voice…not the thick Belgian brogue of my father’s dialect, but something familiar and yet foreign. I can’t explain it. In the dream, I’m obviously not scared of it. I am delighted to be playing the game. Yet, the voice never lets up.
And…that’s it. Over and over again…night after night. For six months. What did it all mean? It would take another surgery to find out…
To be continued…
May 8, 2012
Now—I need you to bear with me. I realize it has been close to a year since I last posted. I have been under the most unbearable stress, all of which I will attempt to purge as I am emotionally ready to do so. I am busy hunting up supportive photographs, former thoughts scribbled on notebook pages, and half finished posts that have sat in que for quite some time. I would like to give as chronological of an account of what happened even though many might jump back and forth a bit. My son was commenting on the fact that I hadn’t blogged in a long time. We used to talk about where all the readers and hits to my blog would come from around the world. We can see it in some of the monitors I have in place and we would talk about that a lot and get excited about it also. I was explaining how I felt like I didn’t know where to start up again. He said, “mom, you know how much I love flashbacks in movies? Your readers will too. Just do it. You’ll feel better”. So, I am taking his now 8yr old advice. I hate setting up specific posting dates becuz if you’ve ever followed me, you’ll know something always pulls me away. I won’t put it out to the universe, but if you want to re-follow, begin following, or make sure you don’t miss posts, be sure to sign up along the side for RSS feeds and let me know if that thing isn’t working—I have put it on there, but don’t know if it works. There’s always Networked Blogs on here too which will come to your facebook alerts notifying you of a new post. I have many things to tweak around here since I was last on and so check back for new videos and pics. I am re-dedicating myself to writing again–here anyway–I never really stop. Wish me luck and leave me some feedback!